


tonight i'm catching the feeling

by gignikinszz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Underage Drinking, because I felt like it, but it got out of hand & i'm sorry, featuring a whole subplot about obi-wan & qui gon being a father-son duo, fluff with an angsty ending, i meant for this to be so much shorter, literally so much bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gignikinszz/pseuds/gignikinszz
Summary: "Obi-Wan fucking hated the beach, but that didn’t stop Qui-Gon from dragging him on a vacation to the California coast. In fucking October.Okay, yeah, the man was doing his best with the whole single-adoptive-parent thing, but that didn’t mean Obi-Wan was particularly inclined to be gracious about it. The forecast for Tatooine Beach said it was going to be cold and wet and sandy and Obi-Wan hated being cold and wet and sandy; he would’ve picked a nice cup of tea and a book over this shit any day.Unfortunately, it wasn’t “any day”. It was the first day of their week-long, cold-ass, sandy-ass, wet-ass beach trip. And Qui Gon was far too excited about it."Or: In which a recently-adopted Brit and a slummy maintenance boy meet in a very cold house, some sparks fly, and a wild party is thrown. Thank god for headache medicine and second chances, right?
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	tonight i'm catching the feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "Magic Tide" by Frills, but the entire vibe of the beach is encompassed by [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1oHlxL5Tr97SsenW5ALZ8j?si=6Ki2Y-15Rh27AcnkHz3PyQ) >:))
> 
> the usual no beta applies here. hope you enjoy!!

Obi-Wan fucking hated the beach, but that didn’t stop Qui-Gon from dragging him on a vacation to the California coast. In fucking October.

Okay, yeah, the man was doing his best with the whole single-adoptive-parent thing, but that didn’t mean Obi-Wan was particularly inclined to be gracious about it. The forecast for Tatooine Beach said it was going to be cold and wet and sandy and Obi-Wan _hated_ being cold and wet and sandy; he would’ve picked a nice cup of tea and a book over this shit any day.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t “any day”. It was the first day of their week-long, cold-ass, sandy-ass, wet-ass beach trip. And Qui Gon was _far_ too excited about it.

“You know, if you keep scowling, your face is going to get stuck like that,” he said, about halfway through the flight. Obi-Wan ignored him and turned his music up. Maybe he should’ve felt bad about being so bitchy, but then again, he was going to be stuck around Qui Gon the whole week. He could just make it up to him later.

Finally, they landed and Obi-Wan stopped feeling like he was going to die—god, he _hated_ flying—but that just meant they were closer to the Week Of Misery, as Obi-Wan had dubbed it in his mind.

It was late when they got to the beach house they were staying at. It belonged to a family they were friends with, the Organas, who had assured them that it was beautiful on Tatooine, and the people were very nice, and the beaches were great or some shit, and Obi-Wan honestly wasn’t listening to the rest. He was too busy thinking about how much he’d miss everyone, and how he’d rather have gone in the summer rather than October, and how much school he was going to miss.

The house was nice, though, from what he saw through his travel-hazy mind. He couldn’t deny it. It was 2 stories, with a wrap-around porch and a lovely porch swing. The inside was cozy, well-furnished, and clean, though it was absolutely freezing.

“Hm, looks like we’ll have to call maintenance,” Qui Gon said, rubbing his arms after they walked through the door. “Seems like the heater is broken.”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said quietly, still exhausted, and started dragging his suitcase upstairs to find a room to claim & crash in. He heard Qui Gon laugh behind him, but he didn’t pay attention, as he was too busy turning into the first bedroom he found, letting his bags fall on the floor, kicking off his shoes, and passing out on the bed.

He was well asleep by the time Qui Gon got up the stairs, turned the light off, and threw a blanket over him.

\--

Anakin woke up late, because of course he did, to his phone ringing. He groaned and rolled over, hoping it was just Ahsoka so he could ignore it and go back to sleep.

No such luck. It was his shitty boss Watto, probably calling him about the rich fucks who had just moved into the Organas’ house for the week.

“Yeah?” He answered the phone, trying his best to sound like he _hadn’t_ been sleeping at 10 in the morning.

“Eyy, Ani. I got a call from the people at the Organas’ house, they said their heater is broken and they want someone to come and fix it,” Watto’s voice just _sounded_ sleazy through the phone. “I told them I’d-a send my best person over in a half hour, so I’m gonna need you to be over there in fifteen.”

“You said half an hour,” Anakin yawned.

“I said that fifteen minutes ago! If you would’ve answered your phone, you would’ve had more time. Now get a move on before I have to fire you.” Watto hung up, and Anakin was immeasurably grateful. The very sound of that man’s voice was enough to make him grit his teeth in annoyance.

He groaned as he got out of bed, but he made himself get moving quickly. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was disappoint a couple of rich fucks, _especially_ a couple of rich fucks who decided to go on a vacation to northern California in fucking _October_ , he thought as he shoved a granola bar in his mouth, grabbed his toolkit and keys, and ran out the door.

The drive was short, thankfully, and when he got there it was right at 10:15. If he speeded up the driveway and skidded to a stop in the gravel at the top, it was none of anyone’s business. Either way, at 10:15 he was knocking on the door and having it open to see—

A really cute boy. Who looked like he’d just woken up. Which made him even _cuter_.

“Who’re you?” He asked, in a British accent. _A cute British boy_. Anakin’s brain started stalling, and it took him a moment to remember that he needed to actually answer the question.

“Oh, um, I’m Anakin. I’m here about the, ah, heater.” He felt his cheeks heating as the boy’s eyes passed over- him, taking his appearance in.

“Oh, yeah,” the boy said with a barely-stifled yawn. “That. Come in, Anakin. I’ll go get my, uh, Qui Gon.” Anakin decided he liked the way his name sounded in Cute British Boy’s mouth. _Ahnakin_. It felt nice. Classy, even.

The inside of the house was the same as it usually looked in the summer—Rex and his brothers had done a good job cleaning it out for the guests—except really fucking cold. Damn, they really _did_ need that heater fixed.

Cute British Boy had gone off somewhere, leaving Anakin alone to shiver in the frigid house, but it was a thankfully short amount of time before he came back, an older man with long hair in tow.

“Ah, you must be here for the heater,” he said. “It’s down in the basement, I’ll take you…” Anakin stopped listening to the man as he forced himself to walk away from one of the most attractive people he’d ever seen and _not_ look like he was staring off after him like a puppy wanting attention.

Damn. Who knew rich fucks could be so _cute_?

\--

Obi-Wan had barely finished his first cup of tea when Qui Gon came up from where he’d been harassing the maintenance boy and started harassing him.

“You know, Obi-Wan, I was just talking to Anakin, and it turns out he’s your age.” The man was smiling evilly at him and Obi-Wan just glared back.

“Yeah, because me and a dude I don’t know who lives on the other side of the country are going to hit it off and fall in love and blah blah blah,” Obi-Wan said, walking over to make himself more tea. God knew he needed it. “Let it go, Qui Gon.”

He knew he’d made the mistake as soon as it left his mouth and he watched his adoptive father deflate a little. The man had never explicitly _told_ him to call him “dad,” but the request hung heavy in the air between them every time Obi-Wan referred to him as anything but that. And it wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to, especially during this trip, their yay-Obi-Wan-finally-got-adopted-and-won’t-have-to-go-back-into-the-foster-system trip; no, it was something else, something he couldn’t quite name. And, if he was being honest, he didn’t really want to think on it.

So he ignored it in favor of filling the silence with something else. “So what are we doing today?” he asked, hoping the answer _wasn’t_ going to the beach. He’d honestly rather go to a raging party than suffer through that. And, from what he remembered from the last raging party he’d been to, it hadn’t been fun.

Qui Gon smiled. “I was thinking we could stick around here for awhile, then go into town and walk around and see what there is to do.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Only you would plan a vacation where you didn’t have anything to do.”

All the old man did was raise his eyebrows. “I’m sure some trouble will find us,” he said, putting a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and looking over at the stairwell, where he addressed his next statement. “Anakin, isn’t it?” he said, and Obi-Wan sipped his tea slowly, not looking up. From what he remembered from his sleepy haze, Anakin had been really hot, and he didn’t trust himself to look again. At least, not under Qui Gon’s scrutiny. “Has the furnace been fixed?” Qui Gon asked, and Obi-Wan remembered why the boy was here in the first place.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed that someone _his age_ had the skill set to fix a heater. Obi-Wan barely knew what a heater looked like, despite his short, unsuccessful experience as a mechanic when he was 15. That curiosity prompted him to look up, and oh— _damn_.

He was leaning against the doorway, covered in grime, and holding a toolkit in his right hand, which was metal. It looked fucking sick, but Obi-Wan didn’t let his gaze linger on it out of respect for the other boy’s dignity. He’d probably been stared at enough. His hair was blond, flopping onto his forehead, and Obi-Wan longed to pick the bits of dirt and other grit out of it. Or even just run his fingers through it. He wasn’t even going to think about that _mouth_ , which was pressed in a line, but as soon as he noticed it, it opened—

“No, the circulating fan is broken and I’m gonna need to replace it.” He didn’t sound happy about it. Was it false unhappiness? Was it actually fixable and he just wanted them to spend more money on him? Obi-Wan had done that plenty of times during the mechanic stint. Or was he unhappy that he’d have to come back? Perhaps he’d seen Obi-Wan checking him out and didn’t want to see him again. The thought embarrassed Obi-Wan, and he quickly looked back down to stare at his tea.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Qui Gon said. “Will it be ready today, or…?”

Obi-Wan could imagine Anakin’s grimace from the tone of his voice. “I don’t think Watto has one in stock, but I’ll check. I’ll come around tomorrow and give you an update, but it shouldn’t be longer than 2 days. So sorry about, uh, that issue.”

Qui Gon’s hand finally left Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “It’s not a problem,” he said, and Obi-Wan heard footsteps retreating to the door.

He finally relaxed once it was closed and Anakin was gone.

\--

Anakin didn’t know why he said he’d come around the next day. _Nobody_ seemed to know why, and _everyone_ was intent on giving him grief about it.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the _hot British dude_ that opened the door, does it?” Ahsoka asked, her legs kicked over the side of his mom’s couch. Anakin didn’t know when his house had become everyone’s unofficial meeting place, even when he wasn’t there, but he wasn’t complaining. It probably had something to do with his mom being the nicest person on the planet.

He rolled his eyes before answering Ahsoka, pulling one of his feet to rest on the lip of the couch. “No,” he said, trying for the best reason he could, “I just thought they might like to know what the progress is on the heater.”

“But Anakin,” Rex said, brow furrowed, “they don’t need to.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Ahsoka said, grinning at him evilly. “That’s what I’m saying. Hot British dude. You’ll introduce us all, right?”

Rex, unfortunately, seemed to pick up what she was getting at. “Oh,” he said, an equally evil grin on his face, “You should take him to our party tomorrow night. I’m sure you two could get better acquainted there.”

Anakin’s face flushed at Rex’s _implication_ and he glared at both of them. “He’s on vacation,” he said. “He probably has better things to do.” _Besides_ , he thought, _it’s not like a rich kid like him would want to hang out with a bunch of broke losers anyways. He probably doesn’t even drink_. He didn’t state that out loud, though. It would’ve just offended his friends, and even he was smart enough to not do that for the sake of all their sanities.

Ahsoka and Rex continued to mock him about it for awhile, until Anakin decided they should watch _Twilight_ , and even though his friends mocked it the whole time, he secretly thought it was romantic, until he fell asleep to Bella running away and had a dream that definitely wasn’t about a certain cute British boy holding his hand, then sprouting teeth and sparkling in the sun.

Anakin was sure that didn’t have anything to do with anything that had happened the day before.

\--

Obi-Wan woke up to the doorbell ringing.

It was definitely because 3 hours of jetlag was kicking his ass that he kept crawling out of bed late, he told himself. It had nothing to do with his personal shitty sleep habits.

He waited for the sound of Qui Gon answering the door, but when he didn’t hear anything and the doorbell rang again, he groaned and dragged himself out of his suddenly-very-warm bed and threw a sweatshirt on over his pajama shirt and pants to go open the door to whoever was so desperate to get his attention.

When he did, he was surprised to see Anakin. Even though he had said he’d come back, Obi-Wan hadn’t really expected him to. Why would he? If he didn’t have the valve or whatever it was he said he needed, there was no point to him showing up.

But there he was.

He looked surprised to see Obi-Wan standing there, who was suddenly incredibly self-conscious about the gross sweatshirt he’d stolen from Quin forever ago and his hair, which he was sure was a mess. Anakin, on the other hand, looked gorgeous, even in his dumb polo that said _Watto’s Fix-All_ , even though he was clearly shivering in the cold outside air.

“Uh, hi, uh…” Anakin said finally, after a long moment of staring at each other.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, realizing he’d never properly introduced himself to the other boy they day before. “Obi-Wan.”

Anakin nodded to himself. “Cool. Obi-Wan. I just, uh, came to say that the, uh, fan isn’t here.”

“Oh, cool,” Obi-Wan said, for lack of anything better to say. Then, before he could rethink it: “Do you want some tea?” Then, before Anakin could respond, he added in a panic, “Unless you have somewhere else to be, of course. I just, uh, was going to make some. Tea. And if you wanted some, you could join me. If you wanted.”

God, what was he _doing_? Anakin just looked confused. He probably didn’t even want to be here, much less to drink Obi-Wan’s tea. He probably didn’t even like tea. He probably—

“Sure,” he said, smiling easily at Obi-Wan, who barely remembered to move out of the way as Anakin brushed past him.

If he couldn’t help but notice how nice the other boy smelled, well, that was probably just the jetlag.

Making the tea was harder than usual because Anakin’s presence was distracting as hell, and he almost let the water boil over before he snatched it off the stove and poured it into a couple mugs, only spilling a little bit. Anakin, thankfully, didn’t comment on it, but Obi-Wan could tell he was judging him.

When Obi-Wan finally set the mug down in front of the other boy, he was rewarded with a smile that probably didn’t _actually_ glow. Probably.

“So,” Anakin said after a long moment, “where’s your, uh… legal guardian?”

Obi-Wan swallowed a sip of the tea. It was alright, but he’d definitely made better. “Adoptive dad,” he said. The word “dad” didn’t quite roll off his tongue, but if Anakin noticed, he thankfully didn’t say anything. “And I have no idea. He was gone when I woke up, uh, when you got here.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow at him. “And _I_ felt like I was sleeping in too late.” The other boy cringed a little after that slipped out and Obi-Wan gave him a dirty look. “I mean—not that there’s anything wrong with that. Sleeping is good. Great, in fact. Good for you.”

“It’s jet lag,” Obi-Wan said, maybe a bit too defensively. “I’m off by 3 hours.”

Anakin looked like he wanted to say something, but Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him and he seemed to rethink whatever it was. As much as he _liked_ Anakin (though it definitely wasn’t like _that_ , no matter how attractive he found him. Absolutely not.) he still didn’t appreciate being made fun of. Especially not less than half an hour after he woke up.

Instead of making another comment about Obi-Wan’s fucked-up sleep schedule, though, Anakin changed the topic.

“So, what were you planning on doing today?” He asked, drumming his fingers on the side of the mug. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t drunk much of it, and he wondered if Anakin would let him have the rest.

Instead of asking though, he shrugged. “No clue. I think Qui Gon wanted to go to the beach, but I kind of, uh, hate the beach.” His face flushed as he said the last part and waited for Anakin’s judgement.

Instead of passing judgement, though, the other boy laughed. “Me too, god. It just kind of fucking sucks, doesn’t it? The sand especially, it’s always so coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets _everywhere_. I think there’s sand permanently fixed in my hair by now.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “ _Exactly_ ,” he said. “God, I’m so glad you get it. All my friends and Qui Gon just tell me I’m being dumb, but I’m _not_ , the beach just _sucks_. Especially when it’s freezing like this.”

Anakin leaned forward and put his arm on the table, so their hands were almost touching. “Exactly! The second I can get out of here, I’m gone,” he said conspiratorially, as though he was letting Obi-Wan in on some big plan. The blond looked away from Obi-Wan’s face for a moment, and when he looked back, Obi-Wan realized how close they were.

“I have an idea,” Anakin started slowly. “Of something to do. If you wanted to, tonight.”

“Yeah?” Obi-Wan asked, curious. He shifted his hand just enough that it brushed Anakin’s.

“Well, my friends and I are having a party tonight, if you wanted to come.” Anakin was looking at him hopefully, and Obi-Wan could’ve just been imagining it, but his cheeks seemed to be a little red.

He meant to ask if that would be alright with Anakin’s friends, but what came out instead was, “For what?”

“What?” Anakin looked confused.

“What are you throwing a party for?” Obi-Wan had never felt stupider. Why had he said that? It was such a dumb question, and now Anakin probably thought he was some sheltered rich kid.

“Uh, just for fun. Because it’s a Saturday night. Because we can. Because Rex’s older brother can buy us alcohol.” Anakin stopped. “Uh, that is, unless you don’t drink. Cause if that makes you uncomfortable—”

“No, it’s fine,” Obi-Wan said, then let his lips twist upwards into a smile. Fuck it. It was _Anakin_ , how bad could it possibly go? Besides, it wasn’t like it could go any worse than last time. “When are you picking me up?”

\--

Anakin’s hands were sweaty, and it was honestly getting kind of gross. He kept wiping them on his pants, but the steering wheel was already slick and he was getting more nervous than he needed to be about it.

 _But_ , a traitorous part of his brain whispered, _what if he tries to hold your hand? He_ was _sending signals this morning_. Anakin tried to ignore the very much invasive thought, as he already had enough to worry about. Like the cute boy about to get in his car, then go with him to the never-used event center to get smashed and possibly sing karaoke and hopefully not get caught by the cops.

It was going to be fine. Perfectly fine.

Anakin resisted the urge to just wait outside and honk when he got to the house, instead going up to knock on the door. Not that it would’ve made a difference, of course. It wasn’t a _date_. Well, Obi-Wan hadn’t said it was a date. Neither had he. So it probably wasn’t.

Not that it would’ve been the first time he’d dated a rich kid staying in one of the cabins up by Tatooine. Padme was only ever there in the summers, and they were just friends now anyways, but there had been a couple months of bad decisions between them before they’d called it off. And there had been some other flings, none of which mattered much now.

But Obi-Wan made his hands sweat and stomach do funny flips and Anakin had a bad feeling his minor obsession with the other boy was going to be more emotionally eventful than those other flings.

But there was no time to worry about that as Obi-Wan answered the door with a smile. It disarmed Anakin, who didn’t quite hear what Qui Gon said, but whatever it was must’ve been suggestive, as it made Obi-Wan go red and glare back in, before stepping into Anakin’s space to shut the door behind him.

Anakin forced himself to not linger. It would only end badly.

The trip there was thankfully casual, and they talked about Anakin’s mom and how Obi-Wan was there because it was a celebration of his adoption, to which Anakin joked about getting a cake and got an eyeroll for. They also talked about Obi-Wan’s dad and how he was, like, the chill-est dude ever because he didn’t care if Obi-Wan came home drunk and Anakin said that he sounded like a homie, which made Obi-Wan laugh. It made the drive feel unfortunately short, and before too long, they were there.

As soon as he parked and they got out of the car, Ahsoka came bounding up to say hello.

“So, Skyguy, this is the dude you were telling us about?” She looked critically at Obi-Wan, who squinted back at her.

“You’re a child,” Obi-Wan said in response. “What are you doing here?”

“Driving,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Do I look as stupid as you?”

Before Obi-Wan could start arguing with her or pointing out that there was no way she had her license yet, Anakin cut in. “Well, uh, let me properly introduce you guys. Obi-Wan, this is Ahsoka. Snips, this is Obi-Wan. Oh, Obi-Wan, this is also Rex, and Cody, and…”

Anakin kept introducing people as they walked in, though from the look in Obi-Wan’s eyes, he wasn’t really remembering any of them. Eventually, they got inside, where it was already loud and crowded and there was a lot of alcohol around.

“Do you want something to drink?” Anakin yelled over the noise to Obi-Wan, who was holding his hand to avoid getting lost. Definitely. Anakin couldn’t imagine that there was another reason for it. Not that he was thinking too much about the point of contact.

“Yeah, sure,” the other boy yelled back, squeezing Anakin’s hand and following him to the plastic table covered in stacks of red solo cups and bottles of substances Anakin wasn’t about to consume too much of. Honestly, he didn’t really like drinking, but being around drunk people was hilarious. He couldn’t help but wonder what Obi-Wan would act like, but he pushed the thought from his mind. He kind of hoped he didn’t have to find out.

His supervision of his friend and thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ahsoka talking into a microphone.

“Hey everyone! We’re so glad you could make it. Tonight, Fives sacrificed his microphone so we could all do karaoke,” she said, brandishing the mic in her hand to some cheers and boos from the crowd of their friends. “I’m going to go first, for the shitty ex-girlfriend I never had, and then our good friend Anakin volunteered to go next. Hit it, Rex!”

Anakin was left reeling as the opening notes of “thank u, next” started playing.

“The fuck does she mean, ‘I’m going next’?” he spluttered incredulously to Echo. “I never volunteered—”

“I don’t know, I think it’s a great idea,” Obi-Wan said, still standing next to him and holding his hand, bumping their shoulders together. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Anakin scowled at him. “You’re horrible. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Echo said. “I think it was a great idea.” Echo and Obi-Wan made eye contact, and soon busted out laughing.

Okay, so Obi-Wan’s laugh was nice and it made Anakin’s insides feel all warm and fuzzy. That still didn’t mean he appreciated Ahsoka signing him up for this.

It was too soon that she finished her interesting Ariana imitation and Anakin felt himself being shoved over to where the little stage area was to sing whatever Ahsoka had picked for him.

“Better be something good,” he muttered as she handed him the microphone with a wink.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered back. “I’m sure your boyfriend will appreciate it.” Then she made finger guns at Rex and Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” started playing.

Anakin scowled at Ahsoka, but it was hard to make it stick. Damnit, it was supposed to be a _secret_ that he liked this song, not something to air out on the first date. Not that this was a date. Also not that watching Obi-Wan look at him from where he’d stopped at the front of the crowd of people dancing and playing beer pong and socializing in other ways made him more nervous than it should’ve.

Still, it was hard to be mad at Ahsoka when Obi-Wan grinned at him and hugged him too tight and took his hand again after he finished, leading him off to go drink and dance to whatever was playing like they were really together.

\--

“Hey, hey, pull over!” Obi-Wan giggled urgently. “I have to—pull out there.” He flung his arm out, gesturing to a deserted-looking side road, enjoying the way Anakin batted the limb aside when it got in his face. That was nice. The touch sent sparks along his skin.

The last few hours had passed in a haze of bright lights and noise and Anakin’s hands on his arms or shoulders or waist, and honestly Obi-Wan couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good, until eventually everyone left, one cheery goodbye at a time. Someone, who could’ve been any one of Rex’s brothers, hugged him on the way out, and when the man was gone it made him giggle into Anakin’s shoulder, which had gone oddly tense.

Finally, they were alone, just the two of them, and Obi-Wan was leaning heavily on Anakin’s shoulder because it seemed that Anakin’s walking skills were the much better of the two. Obi-Wan honestly didn’t pay that much attention to where they were going until Anakin opened a door and shoved him into a car.

“Kidnapping me?” he had asked, receiving an amused smile in return. Then Anakin started the car and before long, Obi-Wan was _dying_ for Anakin to stop driving so he could kiss him. Among other things.

Anakin pulled over, saying things Obi-Wan couldn’t quite hear past the lovely lilt of his voice and the shape of his lips as they moved. Damn. He was _really hot_. Why hadn’t they kissed before? Anakin had always been attractive, and now he wanted _everything._

“You know, maybe it was worth it to come here after all,” he said, leaning up against Anakin’s arm and not much caring that the other was still driving. “You’re, like, really hot,” he giggled, “and I wanna f—”

“Can you sit up for a second?” Anakin cut him off loudly, and this time Obi-Wan was actually paying attention. “I’m still driving.”

“Whyyyyyyy?” Obi-Wan leaned up to plant a kiss on Anakin’s very nice jaw and the car jerked a little, answering his question. He sat up unwillingly, barely waiting until the car was in park on the deserted side road to unbuckle his seatbelt and clamber over to Anakin’s lap.

Once he got there, he tried to reposition his legs so he wasn’t so awkwardly cramped, and, after a few failed tries, Anakin finally sighed.

“Stop,” he said, sounding somewhere between tired and wound up. “Let me—there.” He moved his seat back, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s position was a _lot_ more comfortable.

“I have an idea,” he said, looking into those wicked blue eyes. An idea he had, alright. He wondered what Anakin would look like when—

“What is it?” The other boy sounded cautious, like he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know.

That was fine, Obi-Wan could wait to say. So, instead of trying, he opened his mouth and licked a stripe over Anakin’s lips. The resulting gasp and stiffening of the arms he was just now realizing were around his waist made him smile. He hadn’t done something as stupid as this since he’d been fucking around with Quin. Or maybe it was Satine. He couldn’t really remember, if he was being honest. Neither could he bring himself to care. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was _Anakin_.

As much as he wanted to press his mouth to Anakin’s and get the show on the road already, he also wanted to taste more of his skin first, because _damn_ it had been good the first time. If he sat up straight, his mouth was somewhere… on Anakin’s forehead, between his eyes. _Perfect_. He pressed his lips there, then added a hint of tongue, just to see the other boy’s response. A stuttered gasp. Good. Then another thought came to him, and, well, he couldn’t very well leave a mark on the boy’s _face_ , that would just be bad form, so he bent down, pecking a cheek on the way, grabbed Anakin’s head to tilt it up and started sucking on his neck.

One bruise later, Obi-Wan realized he’d forgotten to tell Anakin his big idea, so he moved his mouth up to somewhere next to the other boy’s ear. “Let’s fuck,” he whispered, then, before Anakin could say anything, he started on his neck again, rendering him semi-speechless.

The noises and stuttered words coming from Anakin’s mouth were all more than enough to goad Obi-Wan on, especially when the other’s metal hand came up and dug into his hair. It was incredibly sloppy work on his part, and more than likely to leave a string of visible hickies on the other boy’s neck, but honestly, when Obi-Wan scraped his teeth under Anakin’s jawline and the other boy punched out a groan that rang through the otherwise silent car, he couldn’t have been bothered to care for everything in the world.

Well, everything, that is, except for Anakin suddenly tightening the hold in his hair until it was _painful_ and bringing up his other hand to drag Obi-Wan’s face away.

“Obi,” Anakin gasped, holding the other’s face rather painfully in his hands. “Obes, stop. Just,” he gasped a couple of times. “Stop, okay, you’re drunk.”

Obi-Wan frowned, finally pulling away a little so Anakin would stop manhandling his face. “But we haven’t even fucked yet,” he said, drawing one of his thumbs over Anakin’s lips, smearing them to the side.

Anakin shook his head softly, dislodging Obi-Wan’s hand. “No, okay, I thought you were gonna stop, but I guess not, so I gotta be the responsible one right now. We have to stop, okay?”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Obi-Wan whined, turning his face towards Anakin’s palm so he could kiss it. “I’m perfectly fine,” he muttered against the other boy’s skin.

Anakin took his hands off Obi-Wan’s head to grab his hands and remove them from his own face. “You’re drunk, dude. You’re drunk as fuck. Wasted. Honestly, I’ll be surprised if you can even remember this tomorrow.” He said it bluntly, letting it dig into Obi-Wan’s chest.

“Not that drunk,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss Anakin properly before he could stop him.

Anakin let him for a moment, but pushed him back before he could go anywhere he wanted with it.

“I can taste it, Obi-Wan, it’s disgusting.” Anakin turned and started pushing on Obi-Wan’s chest, trying to get him into the passenger seat again. “Come on,” he said, sounding frustrated, when Obi-Wan didn’t cooperate, instead grabbing onto Anakin’s wrists with as much a death grip as a wasted teenager can muster. “You gotta get off.”

“Well if you say so,” Obi-Wan said in a way he thought was smooth but must’ve been louder than he thought judging by the way Anakin flinched. Then he leaned in to place an open-mouthed kiss on Anakin’s lips, and _damn_ , it was good, and then—

Then Anakin shoved him off in earnest, sending him sprawling over the passenger seat.

“God, that’s not what I—ugh!” Anakin had scooted his seat forwards and was resting his head against the steering wheel in frustration by the time Obi-Wan could sit up to look. “We can’t do this, okay? I’m really not into the idea of you hating me forever starting tomorrow morning because I took advantage of you while you were wasted after a party I dragged you to, and I never should’ve taken you, and—”

“It’s fine,” Obi-Wan said, like it was simple. Because it was. Most of what Anakin was saying made no sense, and as for what was… well, he didn’t mind being drunk, not at all. He’d probably feel differently in the morning, but, well, that was a problem for then. “If you’re not into it, there’s no point, so let’s just go home. You said your mom doesn’t mind guests, right?” He yawned, realizing how tired he was.

Anakin stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Obes, my mom doesn’t live at your house.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “No, we’re going to your house.”

“Uhh, why?” Anakin asked. “Didn’t you say your dad didn’t give a shit if you came in drunk?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Yeah, and I also told him I might be sleeping at a friend’s house tonight. So let’s go. It’s not like he’s waiting up.”

Anakin looked straight ahead, sighed, and muttered several things to himself about “3 am” and “should learn to fucking say no” before making Obi-Wan put his seatbelt on and putting the car in drive and getting back on the main road.

It wasn’t far to Anakin’s house, which was in a far more run-down area of town than the home he and his dad were staying in. Anakin turned the headlights off before they pulled in the drive and turned to Obi-Wan, giving him a meaningful look.

“Okay listen, dude, you gotta be _silent_ when we go in there, yeah? I will fucking carry you if I have to.” He seemed dead serious, so Obi-Wan nodded and got out of the car as quietly as he could, falling straight to the ground as soon as he tried to stand firmly on his feet.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Anakin’s voice was quiet, but his breath was hot in Obi-Wan’s ear as he helped him off the ground. “Just lean on me, okay? All we gotta do is get inside and into my bedroom.”

“Ohh, I see, the bedroom…” Obi-Wan wiggled his eyebrows and giggled.

Anakin sighed. “Shut up, dude. If you wake my mom up I’ll never talk to you again.”

He seemed serious, so Obi-Wan nodded solemnly and did as he said.

Somehow, they made it to the bedroom together, then suddenly Obi-Wan was on his back on the bed, then his head was spinning and someone was tugging his shoes off, then his vision went blissfully dark and he fell asleep with a warm weight settling next to him.

\--

When Anakin woke up, there was sunlight streaming through the windows and someone pressed against his back and wrapped around his waist. It didn’t worry him too much; it was probably just Ahsoka or someone sleeping over at his house. Nothing completely out of the ordinary.

Well, it didn’t worry him until the person laying practically on top of him let out a soft noise in a voice that _definitely_ wasn’t Ahsoka’s or Rex’s and it brought the night before back to his memory.

Obi-Wan. Drinks. Karaoke. More drinking. His car. The side road. _Shit_.

Thankfully, as far as Anakin could remember, nothing too terrible had happened. To Obi-Wan, at least. Anakin had no fucking clue how he was going to hide the stinging marks on his jaw and neck.

Luckily, he was spared the hassle of having to worry about it too long by a weary-sounding groan from somewhere on his neck.

“Whuzz… Wher’m I?” The figure pressed to his back shifted away and he realized how _cold_ it was in his room, remembered he hadn’t closed the window last night. A bundle of nerves was gathering in his stomach from the thought of the ensuing conversation.

Slowly, Anakin sat up, turning to face the other boy, who was now sitting with his head in his hands.

Thank god they were both still fully clothed. Though he’d changed into proper pajamas himself, Anakin hadn’t even bothered to remove Obi-Wan’s socks, being so tired he’d settled for just getting the boy’s shoes off. Besides, Anakin figured it would’ve just been gross and weird.

“Morning,” he said, trying to sound casual and resisting the urge to bite his nails.

Obi-Wan slowly lifted his head and squinted at Anakin. God, his hair was a _mess_. He looked so beautiful in the morning light, and if Anakin had any artistic ability whatsoever, or owned a camera that wasn’t his shitty iPhone 5, or literally anything to capture the moment, he would’ve done something to keep it there forever.

“Is this your room?” His voice was textured by the early-morning grit that seemed to have made its way into his vocal cords, and it took Anakin a moment to get over it.

“Yeah.” His voice was coming out equally rough, now that he noticed it.

Obi-Wan nodded and looked around some, squinting, and suddenly Anakin felt self-conscious about the spare arm laying on his desk, the stacks of notebooks and papers on his floor, the surfboard in the corner he’d been meaning to clean off for a month now even though he didn’t even surf and the bright, punkish posters pinned up all over the wall. It was a disaster, and Anakin was struck suddenly with an urge to _clean_ , no matter how ridiculous it might’ve been.

“How did I get here?” The question was quiet, worried, and Obi-Wan’s gaze swung around to look at Anakin again, but his body leaned away.

Anakin swallowed nervously. “You said you wanted to last night, when I was driving you home. You don’t remember…?”

Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched. “Obviously not.” Before Anakin could figure out whether it was annoyance or dry humor, the other boy’s attention seemed to flag on something.

“What’s this?” He asked quietly, reaching out to touch Anakin’s jaw on a spot that stung particularly bad. Anakin swallowed dryly again, letting Obi-Wan tilt his jaw up to get a good look at the damage he’d done. “Did I…?”

Anakin nodded, pressing his lips. “Obi-Wan,” he started, grabbing the other boy’s hand away from where it was tracing along the marks and lowering his chin so he could look at him properly, “what’s the last thing you remember about last night?”

In response to the question, Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed and his mouth opened as he thought about it. “Um, I think you were singing…?” He said, sounding uncertain.

Anakin nodded again. This was _bad_. Apparently, Obi-Wan had been drinking something a lot stronger than he’d thought he was. “Karaoke,” he said. “The last thing you remember is—oh, god, that was at, like, 11. We didn’t get back here until, like, 3. How’s your head?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide. “That’s… four hours.” His face hardened. “I was doing _God knows what_ for _four hours_ because—”

Anakin blinked, not having expected to suddenly have to go on the defensive. “—Obi-Wan, listen, I never let you out of my sight—”

“—but you let me act fucking _stupid_ and you let me—”

“—yeah, well, I stopped you from doing stupider things in the—”

“—I’m willing to bet we wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place had you not insisted that I go to your stupid party and get wasted like a fucking frat boy, just to be around you!”

“I didn’t think it would go that far!” Anakin was being honest. He’d really thought that, even drunk and around drunk people, Obi-Wan would’ve had the self-control to just _stop_ , stop drinking, stop touching, stop and go home. Clearly, he had misjudged the other boy.

Obi-Wan’s tone was vicious as he stood up, grabbing his shoes. “Well, congratulations. It did.”

It didn’t hit Anakin that Obi-Wan intended to _leave_ until he was halfway to the (thankfully shut) bedroom door.

“Wait, Obes, you can’t just walk home—”

“It’s not far,” he said coldly. “Besides, if I get in the car with _you_ , you might hand me a spiked drink, so I think I’ll just take my chances.”

“Obi-Wan—!”

At the sound of his name, the other boy stopped opening the door and turned around. “Don’t worry, I’ll find my own way out.”

Then the door slammed, and he was gone, and Anakin heard the sound of his mother’s voice in the hall for a moment, then a few seconds later the front door opened and shut and Obi-Wan was gone.

“Ani?” It didn’t take his mom long after to come barging into his room. “Who was that I just ran into on their way out?”

Anakin groaned and grabbed his pillow, stuffing it over his face, trying to hide the embarrassing display on his neck. Of course she wasn’t working today, of all days. Of course.

“No one,” he said, the sound coming out muffled by the pillow. “No one who likes me, anyways.”

“Ani…” She sounded a bit disappointed, but a hand came up to rest on the top of his head, making him even more embarrassingly emotional than before. “Ahsoka and Rex are here, is it alright if I let them up?” She was hugging him now, and Anakin never wanted it to stop. “And I’m doing laundry today, do you need me to throw your sheets in?”

Okay, maybe he wanted it to stop a little as he felt his face grow uncomfortably warm. “No! No, no, Mom, nothing like that happened. My sheets are fine. I’m fine. Just, send them up, it’s fine.”

She kissed his head before she left, and he felt another rush of emotion. God, why was he like this today? He wasn’t even that hungover.

It was another few seconds before he heard Rex and Ahsoka bounding through the halls and bursting into his room.

“So, Anakin…” Ahsoka said in a tone that was highly suggestive. Clearly, they hadn’t heard the argument. “Had a nice night, did you?”

Anakin looked up at her to glare, completely forgetting about his neck, and was ready to bite back with something he shouldn’t have said with his mom in the house, but Ahsoka distracted him by letting out a high-pitched giggle and stumbling around in a circle, clapping one hand to her mouth and pointing at him with the other. Even Rex snickered a little when he saw the damage.

“Shut up, you two, nothing even happened,” Anakin muttered, hugging his knees and the pillow to his chest.

“You call that nothing?” Rex asked with a snort. “Dude, you got chomped on.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygooooood,” Ahsoka was chanting, now half-collapsed to the floor in laughter. “I didn’t know Brit had it in him!” She wheezed out, clutching her stomach. “Oh, my god, Skyguy, has Shmi seen? This is fucking fantastic.”

“So, did you two do it at the party or did you wait until you got to the car?” Rex asked, an evil glint in his eyes.

Anakin buried his face back in his pillow, wishing he could die. “We didn’t _do_ , anything, he was, like, blackout drunk. I’m not gross.” Wanting more than anything to get the conversation _off_ him and Obi-Wan fucking, he said, “What time is it, anyways?”

“Uh, nice change in subject,” Ahsoka said. “But I guess it might be a sore spot. It’s, like, one in the afternoon,” she finally answered, after Anakin looked up go glare at her again. “We got here an hour ago and we’ve just been talking to your mom.”

“One in the afternoon?” Anakin asked, raising his head off his pillow. “Did I have something today? I feel like I did. What was it?”

“Uh, didn’t you have that thing at, uh, the Organa’s summer place? With the fan?” Rex asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just helping more rich people with their basic maintenance issues,” Anakin said, looking down at his hands again. He’d forgotten to take his right arm off before he slept and now it felt weird. “Who’s staying there now, again?” Something felt off. There was something he was forgetting. God, he’d only had one drink, what was _wrong_ with him? He wasn’t forgetting a collared shirt, no, he had to wear one to work anyways, and it would hide enough to get him through the day. It was something else, something elusive, just on the tip of his tongue…

“Uhh…” Ahsoka and Rex said in unison.

Anakin looked up again to see twin grimaces on their faces. “No,” he said, realization dawning on him. “No.”

Ahsoka pressed her lips and nodded, suppressing a smile, while Rex’s grimace turned into a small laugh.

“Fuck me,” he muttered. Then, louder, “The fan’s, like, here, isn’t it?” He threw the pillow aside and finally got off his bed. “Shit, I gotta get there. Shit, you guys, I’ll talk to you later, okay? Shit.”

He ignored their laughter as he grabbed his work clothes and practically ran to the shower.

\--

Obi-Wan was about ready to walk back to the other side of the country by the time he got back to the house. Qui Gon had given him a _look_ when he walked in, which he ignored in favor of going to the cabinet and digging around for headache medicine. He felt like his brain was trying to break out of his skull.

Mercifully, Qui Gon waited until after he’d taken the medicine and flopped down on the couch to interrogate him.

“So, I take it you had fun last night?” His tone was teasing, and it made Obi-Wan want to chuck something at him. Unfortunately, the only thing he had was a pillow, which he was holding over his face to shut out the light. God, it hurt to open his eyes.

Even that morning, when he’d woken up wrapped around Anakin and it had been so peaceful, and his chest was so firm and he smelled so nice—even then, the light had made his skull pound and the air coming out his mouth felt putrid.

“Yeah,” he groaned into the pillow, fully aware that there was no point trying to lie to his adoptive father or escape the questions. “I think so.”

He heard Qui Gon laugh and he groaned again, willing his headache away and the man to stop being a bastard for once.

“Who did you sleep with?” The man asked, his lack of shame really showing. Did normal, non-adoptive dads ask their sons intrusive questions? Probably, from what Satine and Quin told him. Obi-Wan felt his face burn, and tried not to think about what Anakin had been saying about a car, and the marks on his neck, and how he’d felt in Obi-Wan’s arms, warm in the cold morning air—

“No one,” Obi-Wan said, gritting his teeth. It wasn’t like he had any memory of the majority of the night before, but he trusted Anakin. Nothing had happened. “I was drunk, we didn’t hook up.”

Qui Gon let out a short, interested hum, and Obi-Wan could imagine his eyebrows raising.

“Sounds like an honorable young man,” Qui Gon said, never mind that Obi-Wan had never actually said who it was. The bastardly note was still in his voice, but the odd achy feeling in his chest prompted him to ignore it. What was that about? It happened too often around Qui Gon and Obi-Wan had no clue what it meant.

Before he could think on it too hard, though, Qui Gon started speaking again. “By the way, the maintenance boy is coming with that pipe or whatever it was to fix the heating today.”

His tone was casual, but it made Obi-Wan jump up, finally flinging the pillow at the old man, effectively ruining the mood.

“What?” His voice cracked, but he ignored it and Qui Gon’s chuckle. “ _Anakin?_ You called him over _today_? Fucking—” Obi-Wan almost tripped in his haste to leave the room.

“Is there a problem?” Qui Gon asked, the picture of innocence.

Obi-Wan didn’t even dignify that with a response, just bolted up the stairs as fast as his massively hungover body would take him and started looking through his suitcase for anything somewhat respectable to wear. Anything that _wasn’t_ the clothes he’d slept next to Anakin in the night before.

It was kind of humiliating, and it only worsened when Qui Gon passed by his door and reminded him to brush his teeth. He responded to that with a few well-chosen words that would’ve probably gotten him in massive trouble had they not both known they were well-deserved. Disagreement aside, Obi-Wan did go brush his teeth after Qui Gon told him to, if only to get the foul taste out of his mouth. Definitely not in hopes of a better conversation with Anakin.

God, thinking about the morning’s talk, he was so… so _embarrassed_. His head had hurt so badly and the shock of losing _four hours_ of time because he’d been too stupid to stop drinking had been too much, and he’d snapped at Anakin. And walked home himself, like an idiot. It wasn’t like it was far, but he wished he’d at least heard the other boy out. Anakin hadn’t deserved Obi-Wan’s hangover-induced outburst, he decided, but he didn’t know quite how to apologize. Or talk to him ever again. Fuck.

Before he could decide on anything, though, there was a knock on the front door and he froze, still looking at himself in the bathroom mirror and trying to fix his hair, which was an absolute disaster from the night before.

He heard the door opening and Qui Gon welcoming Anakin in, and oh _shit_ , there was no way the collar of the other boy’s shirt was hiding the bruises Obi-Wan had made the night before.

And then right on cue: “Did something happen to your neck? It looks a little bruised,” Qui Gon said, sounding perfectly innocent.

Obi-Wan wanted to die.

Anakin, true to form, stumbled through his response. “I, uh, fell. Last night. Weird accident.” Oh god. This could _not_ end well.

He heard Qui Gon laugh. “I see,” he said, probably planning something terrible. Oddly enough, though, all the man said was, “I trust you know where the heater is?” To which Anakin gave a flustered-sounding affirmation.

Obi-Wan waited upstairs for a few minutes, trying to collect his thoughts and flipping Qui Gon off when he walked by (which he was sure he’d get it for later, but that didn’t really matter), before going downstairs, trying to find Anakin.

It took a couple wrong turns, but when he got there, the blond was elbow-deep in the heater and so focused Obi-Wan almost didn’t want to disturb him. Then he remembered how much it had taken for him to come down in the first place, and not wanting to lose his nerve, he knocked on the already-open door before he could stop himself.

Anakin jumped and turned around, brow furrowing.

“What are you doing here?” Anakin spoke before he could, cutting off his spinning thoughts.

“I—” Suddenly, Obi-Wan couldn’t think. Words were too difficult, so he gestured aimlessly with his hands.

Anakin scowled a little and turned back around. “If you came in here just to waste my time, you can just fuck off and save it for later.”

Again, Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say, so he stood there for a moment and tried to think. And again, Anakin interrupted his thoughts.

“You know, if you just came here to yell at me again, I don’t want to hear it,” Anakin snapped, throwing a wrench back into his box of tools and grabbing a screwdriver.

The accusation is what finally made Obi-Wan’s throat unstick.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Then, scrambling for a real apology that would make sense, he said, “And I wanted to apologize for anything that might’ve happened last night. I know I, uh, made an advance on you and it was uncalled for and totally inappropriate, and I hope you can forgive me for it.” Obi-Wan did his best to not look at Anakin’s neck. “And I also wanted to apologize about, uh, this morning. Afternoon. I was wrong to blame you for my decisions, and I hope we can, uh, what are you doing?”

As he was finishing his schpeal, Anakin threw his screwdriver on the ground and stood up, walking over to Obi-Wan.

“This,” he said simply, then grabbed Obi-Wan’s face and kissed him.

It took Obi-Wan a second to figure out what was happening and Anakin almost pulled away, but Obi-Wan chased after him and kissed him back hard, reaching up to hold on to the other boy’s forearm.

The kiss didn’t last long, but when they broke Obi-Wan’s breaths were quick and gasping.

“Oh,” he said, voice breathy. “I see.”

The kiss had made him feel better about all the awkward events of the last day, but his chest still ached.

“I—” He broke off, swallowing. “Is it—”

“Yes, of course it’s all forgiven and all that shit and yadda yadda yadda, _jesus_ ,” Anakin cut him off with an eyeroll. “That’s kind of why I kissed you, dumbass. I just had to know you didn’t _actually_ hate me or anything first.”

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat, a little embarrassed. “Oh, that’s good then,” he said lightly, relief flooding his system. “I suppose I can live with that.”

Feeling bold, Obi-Wan grabbed onto Anakin’s waist and pulled him closer. In return, the other boy gave him a teasing smirk that he _really_ wanted to kiss off his face.

“Hm, happy to hear it,” Anakin said, pecking Obi-Wan’s nose, and it made him laugh a little and realize that he _could_ kiss the taller boy into oblivion. So he did, leaning up to close the gap and letting Anakin meet him halfway.

This kiss went much deeper, and it drove Obi-Wan to use his hold on Anakin’s waist to drag him even _closer_ , and Anakin’s tongue was in his mouth and his scent was stuck in Obi-Wan’s nose and the way Anakin’s hand was sliding into his hair was making him feel dizzy, and—

“I do hope you were planning on actually fixing the heater at some point,” a voice called from outside the door.

The sound of it made them jump apart awkwardly, tongues retreating to their own mouths and hands jerking away to hide red faces and adjust mussed hair and clothes.

“Dad, I swear to fucking _god_ ,” Obi-Wan said without even thinking about it, putting a hand to his forehead and feeling Anakin turn next to him to face the heater again.

The name suddenly felt right, and the mysterious aching feeling returned when Qui Gon beamed at it. Perhaps that’s what it was. Qui Gon was his father now. He gave him disapproving looks when he came home hungover. He commented on the worthiness of his love interests. He forgave him for going back to acting like he expected the man to kick him back to social services again. It made Obi-Wan’s head spin a bit, and he even forgot to glare at him for interrupting his make-out session.

Qui Gon just laughed and retreated back upstairs, sounding incredibly happy, leaving them alone again.

\--

The day Obi-Wan had to leave dawned gloomy and cold. But, then again, every day did that time of year, so Anakin wasn’t surprised.

He’d woken up in Obi-Wan’s arms again, which was considerably less worrying than the first time it had happened, as they’d both been sober the night before and fully aware of what was going on.

Not that anything too exciting had happened. Qui Gon was, after all, sleeping in the next room and Anakin was fully aware of how thin the walls were in the Organas’ beach house. And he didn’t think he could deal with the embarrassment of dealing with his boyf—with Obi-Wan’s dad again after all the events of the day after the party. When he told Obi-Wan as much, the other just laughed and agreed.

 _He might be my dad now_ , he’d said, _but he is the most bastardly man I’ve ever met_. Anakin had wholeheartedly agreed, though he wasn’t telling Qui Gon he thought as much.

But there were more things on Anakin’s mind than the previous night’s activities when he woke up and waited for Obi-Wan to do the same.

He liked Obi-Wan, he really did. He _really_ liked him. In fact, Anakin would have much liked it if the other boy were to stay longer. Or, just, forever.

But he was leaving, and there was nothing either boy could do about it. And it hurt like a sack of bricks. God, Anakin had known him for a _week_ , had only been with him for a few days, and he was already so fucking attached. It was stupid.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

As much as Anakin wanted to let the other boy go in peace, to let their October fling be just that, he didn’t _want_ to. He wanted something more whole from Obi-Wan, something that included the possibility of a future. Something that tied them more permanently together.

He wanted a boyfriend. A boyfriend in particular.

He wanted Obi-Wan, as his boyfriend.

The realization motivated him to turn around, so he was facing the sleeping figure, and look at him awhile. Anakin never would’ve pegged him as a late sleeper from his looks and the tea, but he hadn’t gotten up before 11 all the days he’d been there. Not that Anakin minded at the moment. It was still 9, and he looked so peaceful asleep, like there was nothing wrong in the world, encompassing the room and nothing more.

Anakin wanted to live in the moment forever.

It was only a half hour later, though, that Obi-Wan woke up, morning bleariness softening his every action. When he asked what Anakin was doing awake, Anakin just smiled and grabbed his hand under the sheets.

Then he asked the question.

\--

It wasn’t until Obi-Wan got back to his house, his proper house where the heating worked and cute boys didn’t have to come over every day and mess with his heart and ask him questions he knew he had to say no to, that he found the piece of paper tucked into one of his books.

It had scrawled on it a phone number, along with a note: _call me_.

Obi-Wan couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, so he stuck it back in the pages and let it sit there, collecting dust, and pretended it didn’t exist for the sake of his sanity. And his heart.

It was for the best to just forget about it, he thought. It wasn’t like they were ever going to see each other again, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> so i really did intend for this to not be 10k but things get out of hand sometimes, what can I say? also if ur under the legal age pls don't drink <33 it is Unhealthy <3333
> 
> anyways I wrote a sequel, which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780518), but be warned, I might end up updating it in the future. because, you know, if lucasfilms/disney can retcon shit then so can I. also hindsight is a bitch
> 
> thank you for reading !! let me know what you think :)))


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